Royal Affair

Home > Romance > Royal Affair > Page 13
Royal Affair Page 13

by Cristiane Serruya


  “That is yet to be determined. It may be, señor, that you deserve far more attention and scrutiny than I have had the time to give you.”

  Inspector Balaguer hadn’t been able to put a case together that convinced the Aragonese prosecutor to file—standing up a bride in the altar was not a crime, after all. Even if the bride in question was the beloved ex-Crown Princess of Aragon.

  But that hadn’t stopped the man from trying, from edging over the line of harassment until his superiors had warned him off. At least officially. “Actually, you’ve been ordered to quit harassing me. Do I need to call your superior again?”

  “I have just one question for you and then I’ll be on my way. No need to get hysterical, Mr. Innocent. Where were you this evening between seven and nine p.m.?”

  “I was at Caballero’s Steakhouse eating dinner.”

  “Alone?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “There was some mischief tonight at the palace. When I think of the royals and troublemakers, you always come to mind. So, I thought I’d stop by.”

  “Good night, inspector.” Abelardo closed the door and blew out a breath, rubbing his hands over his face. He’d known this was coming, he’d known this other shoe would drop.

  He needed a plan to get and seduce Angelica.

  And soon.

  20

  Ludwig could give an impression of languid carelessness when he wanted, but he was never actually careless. She knew he was interested in the small things around him and that he noticed everything. The power of his mind had an unexpected aphrodisiac effect on her.

  When he looked at her in his commanding way, she really wanted to obey him. She wanted to please him, and she wanted to be pleased by him. Her body ached for his touch, knowing that a set of explosives would go off at the lightest of his caresses.

  Angelica couldn’t quite get herself to walk across the bedroom naked. She tried to be bold, but, in the end, she grabbed a thick terry cloth robe off the wall by the bathroom and wrapped it around her shivering body.

  She poked her head out of the dressing room and further down to the TV room. From where she stood she could not see the bed. But soft flickering lights beckoned her.

  She inched forward, padding barefoot across the wooden floor, and saw dancing flames of numerous candles haphazardly trailing along the floor, twinkling stars.

  Angelica’s heart hammered in her chest. She panicked. Spinning on her heels, she made a move to go back to the bathroom, but she was too late, Ludwig had heard her.

  “Lose the robe and come here.”

  Curiosity overcame her fear and she stopped at the bedroom door, clutching the robe to her chest.

  Ludwig was lounging on the bed naked, waiting for her.

  Her eyes widened.

  It would seem he still had some taming to do.

  Ludwig idly smiled, up to the challenge. Moving stealthily from the bed, he was soon before her.

  Angelica tensed.

  “Take off the robe,” he said quietly. His hands lifted to her shoulders, delving beneath the material to brush across her skin. “Please, take it off. I’m aching to touch you.”

  He pushed the robe from her shoulders. She finally relented, and it pooled onto the floor.

  “Better,” he murmured, as if to himself.

  She held still, watching him devour her with his eyes. It made her hot to see his desire for her, unfiltered in its brazen heat.

  Staring at him, she stretched out the little pink tip of her tongue and flicked it over her lips in the same manner that she so effectively had teased his cock before swallowing him.

  He should have known, of course, right then. But he was so entranced by her that his mind failed to perceive the warning signs.

  Slowly, Angelica leaned forward, her nipples grazing his chest as she kissed him.

  Ludwig held her, enjoying himself as he let her make the first move. Her lips were open and sweet, pouring a tender vulnerability over him. He groaned as her tongue sought automatically to taste him.

  He pulled her with him as he laid down back on the bed.

  He didn’t demand anything from her, only gave back to her with all his expert skill, setting her ablaze.

  No one had ever treated her like she was delicate, beautiful. Like she was a real woman. How can I refuse such a gift? Desire overwhelmed her, scaring her. She didn’t know if it was the man or the wine in her veins that was driving her onward.

  All she knew was that her body would never be the same.

  He growled into her opened mouth. Her lips quickened to a fevered pace as she moaned into him. He found her hips, urging her body closer, nestling his erection onto her, seeking to tame the ache she had created.

  Her body pressed more firmly as her thighs surrounded his and she sat on his cock.

  Yielding to overwhelming temptation, he bent his head to suck at her nipples, biting and teasing them mercilessly, licking roughly with his tongue, rubbing his shaft against her clit as he did so.

  “Oh,” Angelica moaned.

  Ludwig growled in response, giving the other side the same attention. He bit lightly and her hips thrashed up. He bit harder and again she spasmed.

  A slow smile came to his lips. He leaned over the side of the bed and lifted a tapered candle. Holding it high so that the wax would cool some before it dripped on her skin, he let a drop fall across her chest.

  Angelica gasped loudly, her back arching up. Every nerve in her body tingled with pleasure. Her skin was alive, awakened completely for the first time.

  He dotted a red trail of wax down the valley of her breasts, over her stomach, to the side of her navel, only to stop before hitting her delicate center.

  “Ludwig.” Her breath caught. Oh, but it was the most wonderful torture. Her eyes sought his, pleading. “Please.”

  As if those words were what he’d been waiting for, he put the candle back on the floor. “On all fours, head down, ass up.”

  As she hurried to obey, he studied her body as he did so. Her breasts hung like firm round apples, the hard little nipples just brushing the sheet. The shadow of her ass and pussy tantalized him.

  He rubbed his hard cock at her entrance. “Gott, you’re so wet already, Kätzchen.”

  “Please, I need you now,” she whispered.

  One more time, he rubbed his cock over her clit before he took hold of her hips and thrust inside her in one motion.

  She bit her lip to keep from screaming out his name.

  “Gott. Ja,” he shouted, not restraining himself.

  He was dimly aware of her muffled moans as she lay face down on the bed and they spurred in him the raging need to fuck her senseless. It felt too damned good, but regardless of what he wanted, he found that for once he was focused on a woman’s needs before his own. “You’re so deliciously tight.”

  She turned her head to the side as he spoke, giving him a glimpse of her wide eyes and parted lips.

  The sight only urged him on.

  He was on the brink, his balls drawing up, so close, but he wanted her to come first. He drove on, surging into her again and again, compelled by a desperate need to find within her everything he craved.

  He was nearing the point of desperation—cock aching, balls burning—when she finally broke.

  The force of her orgasm consumed her, felt as though it would go on forever, dissolving all sense of the world beyond the unrelenting contractions of her body around Ludwig.

  His cock swelled even further, battering against her inner walls, as he bent over her, his hands entwining with hers, high over her head, and he took her mouth in a frantic kiss.

  “Don’t stop,” she said, her mouth still against his.

  He obeyed her plea as if it was a command, taking them both to heights neither of them expected.

  The night quickened, time blurring. The world fractured around him, around them, at once distant and booming, colors exploding.

  He broke the kiss and looked down at her.
>
  Their eyes met, and their gazes locked.

  His savage need, his male beauty struck her as a wound to her walled heart.

  Angelica had a terrible sense that he had found the chink in her armor—and yet, she felt only a surge of joy at that.

  He saw something move in her eyes—beyond fear and pain, pleasure and desire—something ancient, powerful, knowing.

  “I’m coming so hard.” And then his groans devolved to fierce grunts, his plunges became shorter, harder, faster. His grip on her hips, feral.

  She sensed the coming storm, the tightness, the desperation, the hum in the air. Knowing he was coming close, she squeezed. And her pleasure blossomed again.

  “Yes,” he snarled, tightening his grip. It seized him even as he spoke, clenching him in the fiercest of embraces.

  Holding his gaze, she flexed her inner muscles around him, once, again, then on and on, refusing to let him go, milking him straight through his orgasm and beyond, wringing from him everything he had.

  For what seemed an eternity, she held him in her thrall before finally, with one last squeeze, she let him go.

  Slowly, he pulled back, inch by inch until finally he slipped free. When he let go of her hips, she sagged onto the bed.

  They lay there sprawled out, comfortable and at ease with one another, their mouths stealing small kisses and sweet bites, their hands exchanging softness and hardness, all the silent words their hearts didn’t—couldn’t yet—recognize.

  When she yawned, he pulled her into his arms and held her close.

  When she slept, he buried his nose into her raven silky hair and breathed deeply, committing her scent to memory.

  If only he could make that moment last forever. He would do almost anything to make that happen.

  He could have died right in this moment, and never cared. He felt reborn, a god, beyond any limits. And it was all because of her, his Kätzchen, his princess, his goddess.

  His.

  Ludwig finally understood why people committed themselves to a single person.

  He had no desire to be with anyone else.

  Ever.

  Thursday, May 12, 2016

  5:00 a.m.

  Angelica slid out of the bed as quietly as she could, wishing she didn’t have to. She knew what she needed to do, and it hurt more than she’d ever thought possible. Ludwig had made her feel things she’d never thought possible. He’d taken her by the hand and made her face the depths of her passion, knowing she needed him to guide and control her.

  She gathered her few things and packed her suitcase, trying to figure out what was going through her head. She was unsettled, almost rattled, really. She’d discovered the most intriguing man ever and she was leaving him in the middle of the night.

  His was a gift more precious than any she had ever received.

  Releasing a deep sigh, she sat on the chair in his dressing room and tied her tennis shoes. She had to return to Aragon. She had responsibilities. They were having another session first thing in the morning and she needed to be alert and attentive. If she wasn’t, they could lose everything.

  But, for the first time in her entire life, she didn’t want to go back.

  What am I doing?

  Returning to reality. She closed her eyes to stiffen her resolve. Her fling had been just that: a fling. Wonderful and amazing and recharging, but just a fling.

  But she’d experienced what it was like to live, to truly live and she didn’t want to go back to…not living again. Her heart hurt at the thought of leaving him behind.

  Especially after she’d seen him—truly seen him as himself—showing her the places and introducing her to the people he’d helped over the years. How his electric blue eyes penetrated as if they saw everything and would reveal nothing. His smiles, that were slow to come, but genuine.

  He was laid back, easily taking her jokes in stride, and utterly patient with her lack of sexual experience, never expecting more than she was willing to give, or pushing her faster than she was ready to go. He was polite and well-mannered. He treated her as a woman in bed—and like a lady outside it.

  A banker who isn’t swayed solely by a dollar sign and a decimal point. Who knew that was even possible?

  Ludwig woke up primed to make love to his feisty Kätzchen.

  Even after he’d claimed her over and over during the last few days and twice during the night, a small part of him wanted to do it again.

  He couldn’t get enough of her. He wanted to feel her beneath him, wanted to taste her lips, her pussy, her pleasure. He was addicted, wanting to explore the wild untamed depths of her passion.

  Reaching across the bed, his hand met with nothing. Opening his eyes, he scanned the room, searching for any sign of her. Where is she?

  But when he entered the bathroom, he discovered her toiletries were missing. Backtracking to his dressing room, he noticed her luggage was gone and there were none of her clothes hanging in the closet. It felt as though the bottom of his world dropped out. Exactly like it had fallen out when his parents left him at the boarding school in England when he was five years old. He stopped for a moment, startled by his own reaction to her...not just absence, but her unannounced departure, her abandonment of him.

  He ran back to his bedroom.

  There wasn’t a note on his desk, or in the center table in front of the TV. He checked his mobile. Nothing.

  He called out to his butler, Charles, over the intercom. “Have you seen Angelica?”

  “No, Sir. I have not. Not since last evening, anyway.”

  “She didn’t wake you when she left?” When had she left? Has she gone home?

  “I heard nothing, Sir.”

  Ludwig cursed and hung up the phone. All he needed was information of any kind. Why would she slip out without saying a single word to me? And when did I start giving a shit about a disappearing woman?

  From the way their lovemaking had been so passionate and desperate that night, he could tell how badly she didn’t want to leave him. It was apparent in the way she touched him, her fingers demanding, pulling him back to her each time he drew away. Her moans and passion cried out to him, as if each was a proclamation that had to be obeyed.

  And he did. Each time she clawed at him, brought him back with those powerful thighs, each time she moaned or mewed, he answered.

  But still she’d walked away. And left him without a note.

  He mentally kicked himself as he thought the situation through. It was almost surreal to him that he was reacting like this. He hadn’t even known how deep his interest and attraction to her were. This couldn’t be real. But it was. And he had to do something about it.

  He jumped up from the bed, dressed quickly, and rushed to his car, all the while dialing the airport. He didn’t know how long he had. She could have left already. He just didn’t know. All he really knew was that he couldn’t allow her to leave without telling her how much she mattered to him.

  “Good morning. Grand-Duke von Kröenenberg speaking. Could you please inform me if Princess Angelica di Castella y Aragon’s private jet has departed yet?”

  21

  Aragon, San José

  There was a lot to catch up on. So much, in fact, she almost kicked herself for taking so many days off.

  But they really had been amazing days.

  When the jet landed at San José airport, Angelica was already showered and changed and had been apprised of the current situation in Aragon by Celipa Alfarro, her bodyguard.

  “You will need to keep vigilant,” Celipa was saying as the plane taxied to its designated spot.

  Angelica looked out the window, her chin in her hand. She was nervous about what she might find, what was waiting for her when she arrived at the palace. “Has it gotten that bad?”

  Celipa adjusted the cuffs of her white shirt, her dark glasses hiding any emotion in her eyes. “You need to be concerned about your safety at all times, Ma’am. The graffiti on the walls coupled with the constant picket
lines in front of the palace has caused us to heighten our security.”

  Angelica could not picture these things that Celipa was describing. Her palace, her family, her people, this was not real.

  “And Señor Gutiérrez is back.”

  The jet shuddered to a stop as she looked at her bodyguard, ice running through her veins. “No.”

  Her solemn nod was all Angelica needed for confirmation. Oh, well. That will have to wait.…

  She had just a few moments before the paparazzi swamped her. She sent her brother a text.

  I’ve just arrived in San José airport.

  It didn’t take long for his text to come back.

  Good.

  The plane came to a stop and runway workers immediately moved a rolling staircase to the plane. Before Celipa opened the door for her, she gave herself a cursory look.

  She’d opted for a Chanel pale yellow dress, with a short white jacket to set it off, and a Miu-Miu pair of white pumps and matching handbag. With her round pearl earrings and necklace and her hair pulled away to the sides of her face by silver clips which had been gifted to her great-grandmother by the Queen of England, she looked the part of the proper princess she had always been. Yet, she longed for the Romani dress, sandals, and flowing hair.

  They’ll never know how changed I am, how naughty I’ve been. She nodded to Celipa to open the door, pasted a gentle smile on her lips, and climbed down the stairs. “Princess! What do you think about the uprising?” shouted one thin man, thrusting a cell phone in front of her just to have Celipa brush him aside.

  “Are you concerned for your safety?” asked another reporter, who was immediately joined by another, “Do you think these people will overthrow your family?”

  Reminding herself to keep that gentle smile on her face, Angelica held up her hand and the crowd of reporters quieted. She had to look calm about what was happening in her country, even if she was a chaotic mess on the inside. “I have no fears for my safety. Our security will ensure that not only my family, but also that our staff in the palace and their families are well taken care of and protected at all times.”

 

‹ Prev